Damn You, Miami!

Hubby gave me a ring (a phone call) this am, and explained that his GPS didn’t recognize his destination. I got on-line (I heart the Internet), and told Hubby where he was and where he was supposed to end up. Well done, Mom, and Yahoo! Maps.

Hubby made it to the business park (again, well done, Mom. And Yahoo! Maps).

Badly done, Tom Tom, etc.

Why did we spend $$ on a GPS that can’t find Miami (I mean really. We’re not in Siberia here – we’re talking about MIAMI) in the morning? Hmmm…?

Hubby was literally three miles away from his destination when he set out in a strange town. The GPS took him 20 miles away. Hmmm…

Y’all tell me what that means. I think about faulty wiring. Hubby is still yelling. Conspiracy theorists are suggesting that BP owns Tom Tom.

I have a new GPS in my car (not a Tom Tom), that Hubby so generously provided me with. Apparently, I can’t leave town with the thing. Which makes it useless, as I already get around this town just fine.

If you were me, what would you think?




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